


Love and Other Lies

by startrekfanwriter



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Adventure, African Gods, American Indian Gods, Angst, Aunt Nancy, Coyote - Freeform, F/M, Humor, Indian Character, Norse Mythology - Freeform, Raven - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-12
Updated: 2012-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-29 10:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekfanwriter/pseuds/startrekfanwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avengers AU (Written long before the movie came out!)<br/>Loki.  Not so much malicious as rightfully pissed (and yeah, maybe a little bit crazy).  Darcy/Loki, myth rewrites and redemption. THIS STORY IS ON PERMANENT HIATUS ~ IT IS IN THE PROCESS OF BEING TRANSFORMED INTO AN ORIGINAL FICTION</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

At the edge of the broken biofrost bridge Odin the All Father stands with Heimdall, the gate keeper. They gaze down on Midgard, the realm also known as Earth.

"Loki has managed to make his way to Earth," says Heimdall, and Odin notices the edge in his voice. The distrust. Not that Loki is to be trusted...not in the way trust is normally given. Still, Odin would have thought that after all this time Heimdall would understand his adoptive son. But Heimdall is a force of order - he established the different castes of men which brought stability to the young race for ages, but also stagnation and decay. Now he is the guarder of the World Tree and the gates between the realms.

"And there is more...worse tidings," says Heimdall. "Look there, the magic that emanates from the SHIELD fortress, and winds its' way towards Loki. It is an evil and treacherous thing, and becomes more so, and more powerful each passing day. It is..." The gate keeper pauses. "Alive...but it is not of our making, or the making of the Other."

"Hmmmm..." says Odin, but does not betray how much he knows.

There are other World Trees, beyond the in-between which Heimdall has not seen and Odin has. Odin has seen before the type of device the power comes from, the small innocuous Cubes. They start out as simple machines that harness magic, but then take on the personalities of those who possess them. This one was held in the possession of the mortal known as Red Skull, once bent on controlling all of Midgard and beyond.

Apparently, it has already imprinted and taken on Red Skull's personality. It is seeking its' escape, looking for the most powerful being on Midgard to 'rescue' it. One that It believes will be the most compatible with Its' personality and desires.

It has chosen Loki.

And that is hope.

"Perhaps the scientist Doctor Foster will reopen the Biofrost," says Heimdall. "Then Thor might return to Midgard and destroy the source of dark magic."

Thor would be useless against the power of the Cube. The Cube will not seek him or attempt to bond to him. The same would be true for Odin himself, which is why he has not gone to taken care of the matter.

It is Loki the task must fall to, as all the most difficult, heartbreaking, tasks do. Sometimes Odin wishes he could scream it to the heavens and all of Asgard and beyond, exonerate the one he calls son.

But he cannot. The universe depends on Loki being misunderstood.

"Perhaps," Odin says. "Perhaps."

He looks down. What is his very misunderstood adoptive son up to now?

He sees - and restrains a sigh and a sly smile.

Typical.

X X X X

Inside the SHIELD compound Darcy's hand trembles on her mouse. Biting her lip she tries not to cry, but she can already feel the treacherous rivulets forming at the corners of her eyes.

She told Jane, Dr. Jane Foster, her genius boss, here in this compound full of other geniuses that she could run the simulation. But she'd obviously programmed something incorrectly and fucked it all up. Again. She can't afford this mistake right now. Not with her performance review tomorrow.

Tucking her chin close to her chest she stands and tries not to meet anyone's gaze as she makes her way to Jane's lab. There are at least a dozen people her age - and younger, freakin' geniuses like friggin' Chekov from Star Trek 2009, and they all wanted her job.

She's pretty sure she's only here because she knows too much about Asgard, Thor, the Warriors Three, the nine realms and now the weird power cube. What she knows she doesn't understand, but just knowing is probably too much.

She knocks on Jane's door, but her boss doesn't respond - maybe she's on the phone, maybe she's just wrapped up in her work. Jane has laser focus, she forgets everything when she is absorbed in a project, even to eat. She's absorbed a lot lately. She's trying to find a way to open a gate to Asgard and get Thor, her hunky, deity boyfriend back.

Darcy is distracted by everything, especially food, and really especially chocolate. God, she wishes she had some now.

She could walk away, could maybe go find some chocolate - she's got little secret stashes everywhere. Instead she pulls out her key pass and tries to open the door. The reader blinks green, but the door doesn't slide open. In frustration she hits it with her fist, and it opens with a whoosh.

A man in a dark pinstripe suit is standing there. He's really pale, his hair is black and slicked back with a little bit too more gel than is cool. He's smiling at her beneath glinting green eyes. It's not a nice smile.

"Where's Jane?" says Darcy, striding into the room, irritated by the grinning idiot.

From the ceiling she hears a muffled sound. She looks up and Jane is on the ceiling, she's encased by something that looks like spider silk, her mouth is covered. The spider silk is dripping. It takes a moment for Darcy to realize it's ice.

For an instant she's terrified. And then the weight of the world comes down on her. She messed up the simulation. She needs Jane - everyone else in this place would throw her out the door except she knows too much. But Hell, they might have some top secret memory eraser that they're working on. They're working on everything else. She's got a half finished poly sci degree, a quarter of her peers are out of work. They'd wipe her memory and she'd be broke, unemployed and totally fucked.

Blood heating in her veins, Darcy picks up the thing nearest to her on one of the lab benches. It happens to be a flimsy plastic book mark thingy. Shaking him at the mystery guy she says, "Let her go!" The word asshole is on her tongue, but she manages not to say it.

His evil smile turns to a frown. And then he smirks. "Do you know who I am?"

Huffing, Darcy says, "You're just another stupid, narcissistic, would be super villian. Now let her the fuck down."

Waving the book mark frantically, she thinks of the horrible botched simulation she ran and telling the head honcho guy, Nick Fury all about it. Fury looks like Samuel Jackson, but with an eye patch. He's a lot scarier than this dude.

"...Or I'll loose my job!" The last part comes out a lot less confident than the first part.

Looking down at her like she's an insect he says, "And what...are you..."

Lots of people look down at her here, and Darcy's used to it.

Above her head Jane tries to mumble something.

Not looking up, brandishing the little bookmark like a sword she takes a step forward. Stupid Fury, not letting her bring her taser in the compound. "I'm Jane's assistant!"

He snorts. "I'm a god! I should be concerned about your puny little assistantship, why?" He slips his hands in his pockets and smiles.

Putting her hands on her hips, Darcy snorts right back. "Well it's all a matter of perspective. You're a god, and I'm sure it's puny to you. But I'm not. I'm a fuck up. It's my first chance to do right, and it means everything to me. Asshole."

She closes her eyes. She probably shouldn't have said that last word.

Voice going low he says, "Do you know what I could do to you, you insignificant, disgusting, little mortal..."

Darcy's eyes spring open. The next words out of her mouth are probably proof that she is completely unhinged and really doesn't belong here among people who are really put together, and are not unhinged at all.

"That might get me out of my performance review," she mumbles. She looks up at Jane. Her bosses eyes are wide and frightened. If Darcy were encased in ice too maybe she could get her performance review put off for one more day.

Another snort from the guy who said he was a god catches her attention.

Darcy scowls at him, maybe actually trying to provoke him, she's not sure. His shoulders tremble, like he's about to heave, except he's smiling. He puts a hand to his mouth, and then he throws back his head and laughs.

He disappears a moment later. There's no poof of smoke and no brimstone, he's just gone. Freak.

From above her head Jane says, "Darcy!"

Darcy looks up to see the ice spider web melting away. She moves out of the way just before Jane falls to the floor.

Rushing to her boss, the only one she thinks wants to keep her here, Darcy says, "Are you all right? I'm so sorry, maybe I didn't handle that right. I should have at least stayed under you to break your fall."

Jane flings her arms around Darcy. "Do you know who that was?"

Darcy resists reminding her that stupid super villain god dude just asked her that.

"That was Prince Loki! You made him go away!"

Darcy swallows. She does know Loki by reputation. So-called God of Mischief and Lies, he is the arch-arch-arch-super villain right now, she's pretty sure of it. She's also pretty sure super villains hold grudges, and arch super villains probably hold super grudges.

But then again...

This might make up for the botched simulation.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning after Loki appeared in Dr. Jane Foster's lab, Nick Fury, head of SHIELD, sits in a conference room in the upper floors of SHIELD headquarters. Early morning sun streams through the windows. Next to him sits Agent Coulson. Across from them is Darcy Lewis, Dr. Foster's assistant.

Nick thumbs through her file on his tablet and shakes his head. Divorced parents, with a father in jail for fraud. She's had at least 3 different "stepfathers", and she lived in 13 places before she turned 16. The girl got into a lot of trouble during high school: some drug use, shoplifting, trespassing. She'd straightened up enough to get to college - she is smart. Well smart like Nick is, above average, but not a genius like 90% of the people in this place. In college she'd settled down a little bit, anecdotal evidence from interviews with roommates indicates a pretty turbulent romantic life, and some sort of falling out with her mother, but no criminal habits.

"Where is Jane?" Ms. Lewis says.

Nick shoots her a glance. She swallows audibly and he narrows his one good eye as he studies her. She seems to do have done everything in her power to detract attention from an otherwise very pretty face. She's been playing with her hair since she came in three minutes ago, and in that time has managed to make one side look like the nest of a deranged squirrel. Her dress shirt and pants are oversized and unflattering, it's hard to say if she's overweight or just sloppy.

She blinks at him through thick rimmed glasses.

He nods at Agent Coulson. Meeting his gaze, Coulson turns to the girl. "Doctor Foster is currently under tight security."

"The rooms where you were going to put me?" says Ms. Lewis.

SHIELD had finally erected shielding they believed was Loki proof, deep beneath the compound.

"Yes, but you refused." Coulson smiles tightly.

She said she was "claustrophobic". Because Loki's main target appeared to be Dr. Foster they'd somewhat reluctantly let Ms. Lewis go.

Coulson looks at Nick. Nick gives him another nod. Despite the run in with Loki yesterday, and Ms. Lewis'  _possible_ assistance in motivating his departure, they're sticking to a script today. Just to see what she's made of.

Coulson presses his lips together and turns back to the girl. "Ms. Lewis, it has come to our attention that you might not be the best fit for SHIELD -"

"Are you going to wipe my memory!" She says eyes wide shaking like leaf.

Nick clenches his jaw to keep it from hitting the floor. Coulson says, "How -" but before he can ask her how she knows about  _that_ Nick kicks him under the table, throws back his head and begins laughing.

"Ms. Lewis," he croons wiping an imaginary tear from his eye, "What put a silly idea like that in your head?"

Swallowing again, she looks down and starts threading a finger through her hair. "Comic books, I guess. I read a lot of comic books...I mean...when I was a kid."

"Hmmm..." says Nick, noting on his tablet that agents have seen her visiting a comic book store as recently as two days ago.

Looking up he says, "Do you have any comments about Agent Coulson's assessment, Ms. Lewis?"

Visibly shaking, she licks her lips. "Okay. I've been fired before. I know what's going to happen..."

Nick looks at his tablet. She's been fired no fewer than four times, but not even the slightest bit of fight? This is the girl who brandished a bookmark in front of the God of Lies? Nick is disappointed. As a non-genius, from a rough background among geniuses from decidedly different family lives he was kind of rooting for the odd upstart. Even if she really doesn't fit.

"I can't stop you...not from firing me." She narrows her eyes, "And possibly wiping my memory. But I think...I think you should know...Loki came by my apartment last night." Licking her lips she said, "I mean...in the interest of national, or global or galactic security." She looks away and tugs at her hair. "...or something."

Nick's eyes go wide and he purses his lips. "Um..." says Coulson.

"I think we need to move this discussion to a more secure location," says Nick. He doesn't need Loki overhearing.

"I really don't want to go back to the basement," says Ms. Lewis suddenly deciding to assert herself.

Standing up from his chair, Nick resists the urge to roll his eyes. " _Now,_  Ms. Lewis! If you want to keep your job."

She hops up double quick.

15 minutes, 12 stories, and 6 security check points later, they're walking down a very secure hallway, seeking an unused conference room and Nick says to her. "Right. Now start talking."

Moving close to him and looking up like she's afraid the ceiling could collapse at any minute, she begins.

x x x x

The evening after Darcy's run in with Loki, she was sitting at her computer in the studio apartment she rented from SHIELD. A glass of water and an open bag of chocolate chips sat next to her. Her fingers were trembling too much to write snarky comments on Facebook or twitter. Just popping the chips in her mouth was hard enough.

Maybe she should have taken SHIELD up on their offer to stay down in the bunker? But it was like a prison, 12 stories underground, no windows, tons of security check points, and they weren't even sure if all the new electrical fields and stuff would work.

Besides, it was just Jane Loki was after anyway. Jane said that Loki had "popped" into her lab claiming he wanted to know "what about a pathetic mortal woman his brother could find so compelling". Jane being Jane and brave to a fault refused to speak a word. Of course, after Loki iced her mouth shut it was kind of a moot point.

Lifting her water, a knock at Darcy's door startled her so much she spilled it all over her front. Cursing, she stripped off her warm bulky sweater. Wearing only a probably-too-tight-to-be-really-decent-tee she looked at the door.

"There's no way he's interested in you Darcy," she said to herself.

There was another knock. Swallowing, she started forward, but picked up her taser, just in case.

Taking a deep breath she peeked out the peep hole. It was only Nanny, the little old lady from down the hall. Exhaling in relief, and maybe a little in disappointment - she really  _wasn't_  that important, she opened the door.

"Um, hi, Nanny. What can I do for you?"

Chuckling the little old lady pushed her way in the door with surprising force. "I'm afraid we started a conversation earlier that we didn't get to finish."

Darcy's heart fell. This might be worse than another run in with Loki. Turning to shut the door she said, "I really appreciate your advice on laundry detergents, and I know that you have a lot more experience in these areas..."

She stopped. And sniffed. Usually Nanny's perfume was over powering. Today, instead of being assaulted by the smell of over ripe fruit and begonias she smelled...ozone?

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Behind her came a low masculine chuckle. Darcy's hands started to shake.

She turned around very slowly.

And there he was. All wiry six feet and then some. His eyes were glinting again beneath his slicked back bangs. He looked so pale,  _greasy_ , malevolent...and he was staring at her boobs.

Crossing one arm over her chest she held up her taser with the other.

Meeting her eyes he smirked. "So will you be as brave now as you were in the SHIELD fortress?"

Waving the taser she said, "This is a lot more dangerous than a bookmark, buddy."

"Buddy?" He snorted, and then moving in a blur, he was suddenly just inches from her face his hand on the wrist that held the taser.

Pain shot through her, her fingers sprung open and the the taser fell to the ground. Loki put a foot on top of it.

Terrified Darcy looked up into his eyes. She was crazy to take on someone who fancied himself a god and think she could get away with it. "I'll tell you everything you want to know about Jane," she said figuring it wasn't a state secret. "She's beautiful, she's brilliant, she's brave and perfect for Thor and that's why he likes her, so why don't you just go?"

"You lips spill your master's gossip too easily, slave," Loki said. "You disappoint me greatly. And should be punished."

Tugging her wrist in Loki's grip, little gears in Darcy's brain began to whir.

"Moreover," he said pulling closer, "There is no way a mortal could ever approach being perfect for a god. For the mere suggestion I should bind you by your entrails."

Heart beating in her ears, Darcy looked down at her wrist. Loki's grip felt like cold steel. Biting her lip she looked up at him. Crazy had saved her before, maybe crazy could save her again?

Trying to put on a mask of defiance, despite her hammering heart and trembling hands she said, "Sure they're perfect for each other...They're both...you know...a bit boring."

Loki's eye's narrowed. His breath, like a cold wind caressed Darcy's cheek. And then his face contorted. Dropping her wrist he began to laugh. "I should kill you for that but..." waving a hand he said, "It is true."

Hoping it was working, she kept playing brave. "And I am not a slave, I am her assistant!"

Loki stopped laughing. "And the difference is?" Making a show of looking around her tiny one room studio he said, "This hovel can only belong to a slave."

Putting her hands on her hips Darcy said, "I'll have you know, for a humble assistant, on the upper East side, this is a palace!"

"I am sure for slave quarters it is rather nice," said Loki looking slightly disdainfully towards her kitchenette.

"And I am not a slave, I get paid - with money!" Remembering the long months in New Mexico working for credit she added, "Well, now."

Loki tilted his head. "So you were an indentured servant before? And now you are...a servant?" There was something in the way his eyebrows quirked up slightly. He really didn't know.

"And I can quit whenever I want," she said.

Raising an eyebrow, he said, "And yet you don't."

She sighed. "My job prospects are rather lousy." That wasn't a state secret either.

"Job prospects," he repeated slowly.

"With the economy and all," she said waving a hand and going to her desk.

Because she didn't know what to say, and didn't like the sound of empty air, she said, "Of course I probably am going to get fired. I'm a political science major, not an astrophysicist, or computer genius, or any other type of genius and I keep botching the computer sims for Jane."

"Computer sims..." said Loki.

Kneeling down and picking up the fallen chocolate chips as though she wasn't completely going out of her mind with terror, she said, "Yeah...they're like -"

Interrupting her, Loki said quickly, "Are those rabbit droppings? If they are I order you to slay the beast and serve it to me immediately!"

Hopping up so quickly she hit her head on the desk, Darcy let out a yelp. "These aren't rabbit turds!" she said, rubbing her noggin. "They're chocolate chips! Ghirradelli 60% dark chocolate chips!"

Loki stared at her hand. He narrowed his eyes.

Narrowing her own eyes she popped one in her mouth. His eyes widened.

Actually - chocolate was a new world thing right? Wasn't the last time the Norse Gods really hung out on Earth before the conquistadors?

She held out a chip to him. One that had landed on the desk, not the floor - she wasn't that rude, even to a really an obnoxious guest. "Want it?" she said.

Loki narrowed his eyes again, and she thought he might refuse. But then she felt something touch her hand, like a cool breeze, and the chip flew through the air to his palm.

"If this is a rabbit dropping..." he hissed.

Rolling her eyes, Darcy popped another chip in her mouth.

Loki did the same. She watched him push it from cheek to cheek, slowly chew it, and then swallow. He stared at her a moment, and then striding forward he pounded her desk so hard her iMac hopped. "I demand more!"

Darcy dumped every chip in her hands on the desk, and said, "Have at it. Just don't break my computer, dude."

"And you will explain to me the inner workings of this magical device," Loki said eyeing her iMac.

Darcy spent at least two hours telling Loki everything she knew about her computer while he paced behind her and cleaned out every ounce of chocolate she had.

He interrupted her constantly with insulting comments like, "Your knowledge is deficient in this area, is it not?"

Sadly, in those moments he was always right. He could sense when she was straying from what she knew and was beginning to B.S. Still by the end, she might have been shaky, but she felt like she was going to do it - she was going to escape from the clutches of so-called God of Mischief for a second time in a day.

And then he suddenly stopped his pacing and declared, "Enough!" so loudly Darcy jumped a little.

"I am done with your chocolate and your -" he waved a hand. "Midgard magic lesson."

"Alright," said Darcy spinning around in her chair. "Would you like to eat something else?"

He looked at her breasts, and she went cold.

"I find myself wishing to whet my other appetites he said," with his sinister smile.

He wasn't just an obnoxious guest. He was a psychopath with super strength and super powers.

"No," she said. It didn't come out defiant. It came out soft. Fearful.

He came a step closer. "Go ahead and try and resist me."

Darcy stared up at him from her chair. For a moment she thought of saying that she was mortal, and therefore too beneath him to consider. But she remembered her Norse mythology. There were stories of him doing it with horses - granted in the form of a horse, but still.

Licking her lips she said. "You're right. But forcing yourself on me..." She tilted her head, he'd undoubtably done it to other human women and possibly men …..before, he was a thousand years old psycho. She took a deep breath. "It would be boring, wouldn't it?"

He tilted his head. His smile flattened, and then reappeared; but it was softer this time. "Yes," he said. "I suppose you are right."

He shrugged. "And you are mortal and beneath me in any case."

Later, Darcy would wish she'd come up with a snarky comment for that, but just then, all she could do was swallow hard.

He turned around and headed for her door. Opening it he stepped into the hall and disappeared for a moment. And then the face of Nanny appeared in Darcy's doorway. "I may see you again sometime," she said.

The door closed and Darcy listened to Nanny's voice, or a voice that sounded like Nanny's cackling down the hall.

x x x x

Nick stared at Ms. Lewis. She sat across the table from him in another conference room, deep within the SHIELD compound. There were no windows here, and the lighting was dimm and subdued.

He tilted his head. Nanny actually happened to be a SHIELD operative, and the hallways of that building were loaded with cameras. Confirming Ms. Lewis' story wouldn't be a problem.

Swallowing, Ms. Lewis said, "I think, you know, that there are some important things about his visit."

No shit. Nick blinked at her. "Go on," he said. He had his own ideas but he wanted to hear hers.

"Well," she said licking her lips. "The first thing was, he came through the door, he didn't just pop into existence. I know that's important somehow."

Nick met Coulson's eyes. There were theories that Loki travelled in corporeal and non-corporeal forms. Obviously, they had to get their hands on him in the flesh.

"Then of course, there's the shape changing thing. It's in the legends, but whoa-" She held up her hands. "In the flesh it is really impressive. I mean his clothes changed and everything.

Nick met Coulson's gaze again. This was the first time they had a confirmed account of Loki's shape changing ability.

Ms. Lewis shook her head. "Also, he was really hungry. He ate a lot of chocolate. It had to be several thousand calories worth of the stuff. Even  _I_  would have gotten sick on it, and my ability to snarf down chocolate is my super power."

Nick pursed his lips. "A very handy super power to have."

Completely missing the sarcasm in his tone Ms. Lewis smiled, licked her lips and actually bounced a little in her seat. Nick restrained a sigh. There were so many reasons this girl didn't fit SHIELD culture.

And then Ms. Lewis blinked. "Yeah. And the other thing...he really doesn't get us. I don't know if he really understands that people in this day and age aren't masters and slaves, that we're independent agents - I mean, even after I explained it. And computers - well, he was fascinated; but it was all new to him. He's a fish out of water in this mellinea...we have that on our side."

Nick looked down. He may have eaten because his run in with Doctor Foster left him tired. But. "You're leaving one thing out, Ms. Lewis."

"Ummm...no, I told you everything," she said looking a little worried.

Coulson said fast, "He didn't ask you anything about the cube, did he?"

Ms. Lewis shook her head. "No...no...I would have remembered that." He eyes widened, "I'm not that flaky."

Coulson gave a crooked half smile to Nick. Nick scowled at him. That Loki didn't ask didn't mean he didn't know. It might meant he knew all he needed.

Nick took a deep breath. The girl had no training.  _If_  her story was true she'd just talked a malevolent being out of murdering her, and possibly raping her - what were her chances of being able to do that again? On the other hand, the information they'd gleaned from this little episode was huge.

"He said he might come back," said Nick. "Now, we could change your identity, cut you a severance check, and thank you for your service..."

Darcy licked her lips, "Or I could be kind of like your spy."

Nick took a breath. She said it. Not him. That meant it wasn't on his conscience. Didn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20 Chapters of this work can be found at http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7572400/1/Love_and_Other_Lies


	3. Chapter 3

The interior of the church is hushed, dark, and nearly empty. It is 7 PM on the second Wednesday since Darcy's run in with Loki in her apartment. It is strange how she is starting to measure time in increments before and after her run ins with the Asgardian.

Today is also the third anniversary of her grandmother's death. Another measure of time.

Darcy drops an offering in the box, lights a candle, and settles into one of the empty pews. Darcy isn't particularly religious, but her grandmother had been, and that seems enough to warrant a visit.

Closing her eyes, she steeples her hands and is just about to kneel when a familiar voice comes from behind.

"You know, the very fact that I wasn't struck by lightning as I entered this church is proof the God you are about to pray to does not exist."

The hairs on the back of Darcy's neck prickle in fear...and maybe excitement, too. This is what she signed up for, right?

She turns around. Sitting on the pew behind her, his feet up on the back of her pew, is Loki wearing his trademark smirk.

Darcy narrows her eyes. "My God doesn't believe in interference," she says.

"A rather useless god then," says Loki, raising his eyebrows.

"A perfect God," says Darcy. It doesn't matter if she's agnostic; it's the principle of the matter at stake here. "One that knows humans are capable of growing up and taking care of ourselves, if we're not coddled."

Loki purses his lips, and Darcy is feeling the swing of this. Just to further confound him she adds something some smart ass mentioned in a philosophy class sometime. "Maybe he created us just to witness his own evolution."

Loki's eyes narrow and when he speaks it's practically a hiss. "You should be the one struck by lightning."

The air seems to crackle - actually, it may really be crackling considering it's Loki she's dealing with. It occurs to her that she may have pushed him too far with that comment for some reason. Smiling her best hey-we're-all-just-kidders-here smile she says, "Hey, thanks for Friending me on Facebook. You should really post more often so we can stay in touch."

She actually finds his page very amusing. His profile has a silhouetted picture of a devil. It lists him as God of Mischief and as living in Midgard, for Now.

Loki's anger vanishes and instead he lifts his nose and waves a hand dismissively. "I am beyond Facebook now." He smiles at her and licks his lips and she gets a really bad feeling.

Then pulling his feet down off the back of the pew he says, "You are still a servant for SHIELD."

"They still pay me," says Darcy. "But I don't work for Jane anymore."

He blinks. Scowls. "That is unfortunate," he says in a low tone.

She shrugs. "I'm not so good at computer sims - Midgard magic. They employ me now as a reader. I scan through news articles and blog posts that their computers have pegged as...odd. You know, just in case there is someone other than you to look out for."

He tilts his head. "Interesting," he says. Then he smirks and raises an eyebrow. "But you left out the part of your job description that entails spying on me."

"Meh," says Darcy with another shrug. She actually  _expected_  that and she's feeling a little bit smug at her ability to deliver her answer without flinching. "I figured you knew that was a given."

He laughs and she's so relieved she pulled it off she laughs, too.

"And I get combat pay whenever you show up!" she says.

"Really?" he says with a smile. He waggles his eyebrows. "Excellent. Then I won't have to feel I'm putting you out by asking for your help in an expedition."

"Ummm..." says Darcy, suddenly remembering how serious this is.

Loki smirks. "Have no fear. I'm sure you will find it quite mundane, but for me it is rather not. We will not leave the city, and I promise..." He puts his face very near to hers and it strikes her that if he didn't have the slicked back hair, had a little bit of a tan, and wasn't so  _freakin'_  creepy he'd be kind of good looking. The glint of his green eyes beneath his black hair is really quite striking. "...I will not force you into anything."

She's kind of afraid that if she tries to stand up, her legs will fall out from under her, but she puts on her game face and says, "Well, I guess this is what they pay me the big bucks for."

He almost kind of snorts. And then reaching forward to her collar, he pulls out a little bug that SHIELD has her wear everywhere now to monitor her. He pinches it between his fingers and with a smile throws it over his shoulder. Looking behind him he says, "And we'll have to get rid of of  _them_."

It's only then that Darcy notices the two guys sitting in the back pews. One's in a suit, the other looks like a mechanic type person. They're sitting a little stiffly and don't look like they've been praying at all. The air around Darcy and Loki seems to shimmer, and then Darcy blinks and sees two people who look like her and Loki strolling down the aisle and out the front door of the church. The two guys jump up and follow them.

Darcy looks at Loki and gasps. He's not smirking. His brows are drawn; he's facing the door and he looks like he's concentrating. Without meeting her eyes, he stands and grabs her arm. "This way," he says, pulling her up. "Eating out is proving inconvenient. I need to procure food stuffs for my abode - and a Google search on procuring quality food was quite is the most efficient way to go about it?"

As he pulls her through the side door - his arm thankfully strong in hers - she really doesn't know if she could move her legs without his help - Darcy blinks at him. "You cook?"

He rolls his eyes. "I thought of hiring a domestic servant, but they can be such a nuisance. The interviews, the paychecks - Social Security and unemployment insurance if you hire them legally."

Darcy blinks again.

He sighs. "To answer your question, yes, I do cook. Thor always had me do the cooking when we went off on his damn fool adventures."

"Oh," she says looking down at the pavement. It's a rainy late September evening, and it is sparkling beneath her feet. "There is a Whole Foods a few blocks from here..."

"There are incomplete foods?" he asks tilting his head.

Darcy kind of snorts. "Yeah, but don't worry. I'll teach you how to read the labels."

x x x x

"...and then we went to Whole Foods and went shopping," says Ms. Lewis with a shrug - as though it was really no big deal, as though it was the most natural thing in the world to go grocery shopping with the guy SHIELD was pretty sure was periodically zapping the boundaries of their underground bunker with  _something_.

Not that she would know about that. Nick crosses his arms over his chest. His jaw tightens. It might be better if she doesn't know.

Ms. Lewis tilts her head and taps her chin. "We mostly got really basic stuff. And lots of it. Like four pounds of butter, whole milk, cream, about eight dozen eggs, some produce, but he said most of it wasn't fit for consumption - and got really ticked that he wasn't allowed to taste it first...oh, and meat. Some bison, which was pretty surprising, I wouldn't have thought he'd know what it was...and he didn't, he just wanted to try it." Counting on her fingers she adds, "Duck, pork, chicken. He went right for the grass fed stuff, too, which was pretty amazing. Oh yeah, and about ten pounds of Wild Alaskan Salmon, and chocolate, loads of chocolate. I convinced him to get some Batter Blaster, too."

"Batter Blaster?" asks Nick, his brow furrowing.

Nodding she says, "Yeah, you know. Pancakes in a can. They're awesome and all natural."

"How can pancakes from a can be all natural?" asks Nick. It's been a long time since he's been shopping, obviously.

Smiling, Ms. Lewis says, "That's exactly what Loki said!"

Beside Nick, Coulson says, "Did he give any hint that he knows about the cube?"

Ms. Lewis shakes her head and Coulson sighs. "I really don't know what we're learning at this point," he says.

Ms. Lewis scowls at him slightly. Nick finds himself scowling, too. Before he can say anything, Ms. Lewis says, "Besides the fact that he has good taste in food it means he eats - a lot, and not just for recreation." She looks at Nick, "I mean, that's why I eat chocolate." Turning back to Coulson she says, "He can't just will food into existence. He paid for it, too. Which means he has money - and maybe that just making it go poof out of existence, or creating an illusion to let us exit without paying for it, is taxing."

Nick says, "And he knows what a hassle FICA is, too."

Ms. Lewis goes on, "And we didn't just shop, we talked, too."

"Go on," says Nick, and Coulson gives him an aggravated look.

"About cultural things," says Ms. Lewis. Nick sees Coulson roll his eyes, but Nick is intrigued.

"He really doesn't know anything about us," Ms. Lewis says. "And not just about modern culture, but even about classical culture - I know squat about Shakespeare, but he knows less. When I suggested, you know, that he watch  _Star Wars_  or read the  _Lord of the Rings_  to catch up, he said he didn't have time for such frivolous things, and I said I guess I could be like his cultural Cliff Notes...but he didn't get that joke."

Coulson sighs. And then Ms. Lewis' cell phone rings. The ring tone sounds familiar.

Her eyes widen.

Nick narrows his eyes at her, but before the reprimand is out of his mouth she whispers, "That's the  _Star Trek_  theme. It's him. Should I answer it?"

"By all means," says Nick, letting his voice come out a growl and sitting back in his chair. He's trying to look badass and annoyed. She's so different from anyone in here, he actually finds her to be a breath of fresh air, but he's got to make sure she never forgets who's boss.

She pulls out the phone and says, "It's a text." Grinning, she says, "Hah! He says the Batter Blaster pancakes are superb!" She scowls. "And to say hello to my masters. That bastard."

She begins furiously typing with her thumbs, "I'm telling him the word he means is  _handlers_."

It's hard for Nick and Coulson to do anything but stare.

x x x x

"So...no luck getting the big guy to come back over the rainbow?" Darcy says into her phone.

Jane sighs. "I'm not supposed to talk about it with you."

"Oh, yeah," says Darcy moving her phone to her other ear. "Bummer." And she really means it. Darcy likes Jane. A whole lot, even if she's a tad boring. Jane's good people, really good people, not a messed up mostly-reformed-ne'er-do-weller like Darcy. And Jane does interesting things. Darcy likes hearing about her interesting things.

What Jane isn't good at is shooting the breeze.

"I miss you working for me," Jane sighs. "The new guy -"

"Is yummy," Darcy supplies helpfully. 'Cause he is, and Jane bless her, hasn't noticed. He isn't just a genius like Chekov in  _Star Trek 2009_ , he looks like Anton Yelchin, who is, indisputably a real cutie.

Jane laughs. "That's why I miss you. He's brilliant, but..."

"Boring," Darcy supplies, rifling under her bathroom cabinet.

Jane laughs. "Yeah. Everyone at SHIELD is so..."

"Dedicated. Determined. Brilliant. God damn it!" Darcy says, not finding what she's looking for.

"Well, I wouldn't call it a bad thing," says Jane.

"No! I can't find my tampons! I just bought some," says Darcy, stomping out into the kitchen-living room-bedroom. "I hate being female."

"Oh," says Jane carefully.

"I've actually calculated all the hours I've lost sitting down to pee," Darcy says, and then sees a bag from the drugstore by the front door in what passes for a foyer - a 2x2 foot space where she keeps her shoes. Heading in that direction she mutters, "I think the only advantages to being female come from trickery and deceit."

"You say that as though it was a bad thing," says a voice that is definitely not Jane, is definitely male, and is way too close behind her.

"Is that Loki?" Jane says a little breathlessly.

"Yep," says Darcy, freezing in place for a moment, box of tampons in her hand. Of all the times...

"Hi, Jane," Loki says, way too happily.

"Have to go now," says Darcy. To the bathroom actually.

"Be careful," says Jane.

"Uh, huh," says Darcy. It is too late for that. Shutting off her phone, she looks at Loki. He's wearing a very nice dark gray suit, a white shirt, and a light green tie. If it weren't for his slicked back hair...

She shakes her head. Bad train of thought. But it's a train her brain rides frequently As much as he terrifies her, he also makes her feel really alive.

Waving the tampons in his face she says, "I'm going to the bathroom."

"And what sort of weapon is...that?" he asks, not even blinking.

Narrowing her eyes, Darcy says, "Feminine hygiene products, so look out."

Loki's eyes go wide and he looks for all the world like he's just about to choke on a whoopee cushion; he's holding back a laugh  _that_ hard. He doesn't move, just puts a hand over his mouth and sort of fades a bit. With a huff, Darcy walks right through him.

She steps into the closet that passes for a lavatory in her tiny studio. Pursing her lips, she turns around. Would he be that much of a perv? Remembering the story about him turning into a mare and having sex with a stallion, she waves the box of tampons at him again. "Don't even think of peeking."

"Well, since you're armed," he says with a smirk.

She manages to glare and shut the door before he can see her smile. Making the so-called God of Mischief laugh makes her feel way too good, way too powerful.

When she comes out he's looking around her tiny studio with a careful, appraising eye. "So how are your new duties at SHIELD?" he says. And then not looking at her, without any smirk in his voice, he says, "I mean the ones not involving spying on me."

"Eh..." says Darcy. Because that about sums it up. She'd hoped that it would be more exciting, but, "They don't really give me any of the really neat news tidbits to read up on. Two-headed frogs in Louisiana, which is so 1980s, is about all I get. And not many of those."

"Hmmmm..." he says as though he's not really paying attention to her.

"Of course -" she's about to add how at least it gives her lots of time to read up on him. She's sure he'd find that interesting; she can't believe he's not a narcissist.

And then from all around her room come sounds like popcorn popping. Wafts of smoke drift upwards. Her mouth drops.

"I'm sorry," Loki says as though he isn't at all. "But your lodgings were filled with magical eavesdropping devices."

"Bugs," says Darcy, jaw going tight. There is a last loud pop from beneath her bed that makes her turn and jump. She thought SHIELD might have bugged her home since her new gig, but so  _many_?

"Well, now that they are all exterminated, perhaps we should work on making your dreary day duties more exciting." He slides his hands into his pockets, in a move so simple it shouldn't be sexy, but on his long lean frame, kind of is. His green eyes are drilling into her, and he's smiling, and it's wicked, and Darcy feels her breath catching in her throat.


	4. Chapter 4

The little human, Darcy, waves a small blue cardboard box in front of Loki's face, as though it contains something potent. It does not. Physically it isn't sharp, does not appear to fire projectiles, and is lightweight. Magically, it contains no energy source, Midgardian or other. What might be potent, if she hadn't been wearing a disappointingly bulky sweater, is the bounce of her breasts as she waves her arms. Loki has seen her breasts in less ample clothing. They are dangerous. Even to a god.

"What sort of weapon is...that?" he asks unable to keep the disdain from his voice.

"Feminine hygiene products, so look out."

Loki's brain catches up with her words and it's all he can do to keep from exploding with laughter. She is so amazingly honest and indiscreet. It's utterly unexpected and charming. Any lady of the Asgard court would blush about such matters - or mortal women he'd known, for that matter.

He knew there was a reason he'd come to her to complete his errand - troublesome as it had been to get here. SHIELD agents are everywhere and he'd had to leave his body a few blocks away. She makes everything so much more amusing.

He must have faded with the effort to contain his laughter because she walks right through him. Impertinent human female.

She makes some remark about not spying on him as she enters her lavatory. He decides to refrain - he is curious as to what sort of devices they use for that sort of thing but he supposes he can Google it. He loves Google, powerful magic that. He responds with a smirk and catches her smile as she closes the door.

Then he looks around. They are everywhere. The little magical eavesdropping devices. Darcy steps out of the bathroom and he converses with her without really paying attention.

Loki has a problem, well a number of problems, and no, not these little devices. And not the problems Odin, Thor, his ex-wife Sygyn, or Mother... _adoptive_  mother Frigga, would attest to.

He desperately wants the power Cube, the tessaract. And  _it_ wants him. He can feel it. The poor thing, a child of it's kind. It is locked up, deep down in the SHIELD fortress, misunderstood, and alone. Loki can identify. And he's been known to rescue lost children out of the goodness of his heart from time to time. Children that can supply him with virtually unlimited magical energy...well, that doesn't even require goodness.

Alas, Midgardian magic has progressed a bit since the last time he paid a visit during the great conflicts 70 Midgardian years before. The destruction and carnage were enough to distract Heimdall, the gate watcher, and Loki had been able to poke around like he hadn't in literally ages.

At the time he was somewhat impressed by their advances. They had their charming, clunky magics - typewriters, airplanes, cars! How fanciful. They'd also, more impressively, managed to make the connection of matter to energy. In a very primitive inefficient ways they'd harnessed the power of what they called atoms. They'd also harnessed the force they called electricity.

Now they have  _computers_  as well. They were using computers and electricity to do naughty things. Like porn...which he likes. And keeping him out of the area of the fortress where the power cube is stored - in solid and non-solid form. Whenever he tries, he gets zapped. Admittedly, he doesn't like that. There's a computer he's going to have to shut down to get access.

It's a bother, but also a puzzle, and Loki likes puzzles. And he likes magic, in all its forms. But he is a little behind, even if he is catching up quickly. He hacked into his first financial institution just this week! Granted, it's a bank in Nigeria, but he's still excited.

Unfortunately, there are other people after the cube, people more experienced with Midgard magic. He can't be teaching himself Midgard magic and be tackling those competitors unless he goes about it in a more roundabout way. He likes round-a-bouts.

But now he must attend to the minor inconvenience at hand. He focuses and  _sees_  the little 'bugs' as Darcy calls them. They're hidden, but they leave a magical glow, white, unlike the blue glow of Asgardian magic. With Darcy watching he destroys them, setting them alight without catching her furniture on fire. He's rather proud of his delicate touch. He also enjoys it when Darcy jumps and shouts, "Holy -"

He is rather holy. Or unholy. Same thing really.

And then he turns to Darcy, "...perhaps we should work on making your dreary day duties more exciting," he says, slipping his hands into his pockets and smiling at the little human.

She has the sense to tremble slightly. She's not completely mad, which is good. She can be of use to him.

But first he has to get her closer to his  _physical_  form.

"We're going to dinner," he says.

"Ummm..." says Darcy.

He looks at her slacks, and the bulky sweater she's wearing. She'll probably finish the hideous outfit with the shoes she calls sneakers.

"But you're not wearing  _that_ ," he says, waving a dismissive hand.

"What's wrong with this?" she asks.

"That doesn't even warrant an answer," he replies and turns towards what must be a closet. He isn't in his physical form so he has to open it magically. It's a minor drain. However...He looks at her shapeless sweater. It is necessary.

Levitating clothing out of the closet, he lets out a huff. "Don't you have anything that reveals that you are a woman?"

"Do you have to throw things on the floor? And shut up. It's hard when you're...you've got...if it fits my chest and hips it's usually going to be too big for my waist, unless it's really tight and not appropriate for the office."

And potato sacks are appropriate for the office? "Your tailor should be executed," Loki says.

"I don't have a tailor. I'm on the low end of the pay scale."

"You make your own clothes?" Loki asks momentarily pausing his rifling. "You have no talent for it."

"Ever hear of mass production?" she huffs.

Loki blinks. "Ah, like aircraft carriers, bullets, and bombs on assemble lines during your great wars?" He tilts his head and looks at her chest. She crosses her arms and glares.

He turns back to the closet and the clothing floating on wire hangers in mid air. "You're wearing the aircraft carrier equivalent of clothing," he says. That explains everything.

A simple black dress catches his attention. "This will do," he says, drawing it forward through midair. Narrowing his eyes, he makes one minor modification to it. He floats it towards her, "Put it on."

She plucks it out of the air and narrows her eyes. "Where are we going?"

"You're going to dine in the company of a God," he says. "Does it matter?"

"If I have to dress up...yep. I'm not wearing a fancy black dress and going to Denny's." Sticking her jaw out, she adds in a low tone, "With anyone."

"Who is Denny?" Loki asks.

"Where are we going?" Darcy asks.

This is taking too long. "Anywhere the lady desires," says Loki, rolling his eyes.

She smiles. Too brightly. "Anywhere?" she asks.

"Anywhere in New York," he amends, eyeing his watch. "I have no time for plane rides or -"

" _Anywhere_  in New York?" she asks again, bouncing a little on her feet and biting her lip.

"Yes," he says. She is getting rather excited. Should he be worried?

"Per se," she says quickly.

"Your Latin pronunciation is atrocious," he says. "And no, not by itself -"

"It's a restaurant!" she says. "That's where we're going." She licks her lips, which are wonderfully full, the perfect compliment to other parts of her deliciously full anatomy.

"Is it a SHIELD cover?" says Loki, thinking maybe he ought to be worried.

"Oh, God, I hope not," says Darcy, and he can tell she isn't lying. He has a rather good ear for lies. And she is addressing him properly. Marvelous.

"I'm going to put this on!" she declares, running to the lavatory. "Make the reservation!" she cries, slamming the door.

Pursing his lips, he pulls out his cell phone and Googles  _per se_. One of the best restaurants in New York, and arguably the United States...and from the reviews it appears making reservations on such short notice is going to take a great deal of magic. He sighs.

From behind the door, he hears Darcy yell, "Hey, what did you do to my neckline? My boobs are going to pop out in the middle of dinner!"

He smirks. Yummy.

x x x x

"We just lost all of the bugs in Darcy Lewis' apartment, Sir," says Sergeant Martinez.

Scowling, Fury dodges a passing car as he crosses the road. "I'm 50 meters from your position."

A slight figure moving in his direction but looking nervously towards Ms. Lewis' building makes him pause. "I'll be right there," he says closing his phone.

"Dr. Foster!" he yells, "What are you doing here?"

The young woman turns. Hand on her mouth she points at the building, "He's there! He's in there; and he's got my friend."

"Stay calm," says Nick. "We don't know that she's in any trouble."

"He almost destroyed an entire town! He froze me to a ceiling!"

"With Ms. Lewis, he goes to church and grocery shopping," Nick says. And according to the most recent recordings, discusses feminine hygiene products.

Dr. Foster swallows, and stares at him. It strikes him how perfect and delicate her features are. Ms. Lewis has a pretty face - she's got wide, generous features, but Dr. Foster is  _perfect_. Almost so perfect her features are uninteresting. She has the face and figure of a doll.

"Where are you going?" she says quietly.

"We've got a surveillance van," he says pointing in his agents' direction.

"I'm coming with you," she says.

He sizes her up. "I guess you are. This way," he says walking towards the van and not bothering to see if she's following.

"Sir," says Martinez as they enter the cramped space. "No contact. Should we go in?"

"Do you have infrared goggles?" Dr. Foster asks before Nick can reply.

"Who are you?" Martinez asks.

Martinez's partner, Smith, rolls his eyes. "We do have infrared goggles, but they don't see through walls in  _real life_."

"Really? Gosh! I had no idea! Maybe I should give back my PH.D. in astrophysics?" says Dr. Foster with surprising furiousity.

"Uhh..." says Smith.

"Gentlemen, may I introduce to you, Dr. Jane Foster. Smith, give her your goggles," says Nick.

"I'm also going to need a radar gun," says Dr. Foster taking the goggles and hastily pulling them apart, "For wave amplification."

"Wave amplification?" says Nick.

"Yes, I have a hunch that Loki produces energy at the same frequency as the cube."

"Cube?" say Smith and Martinez in unison.

Without answering their question, Jane continues, "Our instruments can't normally see in that range, but if we modify your radar gun to produce waves of the right frequency, we should be able to boost the frequency of Loki's natural energy signature and be able to see him - if I modify the infared goggles - but only when he's working magic." She narrows her eyes at Smith. "It might even work through walls."

"A radar gun is not standard kit," says Nick.

"But I have one," says Martinez. "I was playing a cop earlier today."

"You heard the good doctor," says Nick.

As Jane begins furiously working on the goggles and the radar gun Darcy and Loki come walking out of the apartment building, arm-in-arm, both dressed to the nines. Loki turns and waves at them with a smile.

"How long will that take?" asks Nick.

"About an hour," says Foster.

"Call out another team to survey the damage to Ms. Lewis, apartment," says Nick. "Martinez, follow them now."

"What if it isn't them?" asks Martinez. "What if it's magi - an illusion."

"All the better to prove or disprove Dr. Foster's hunch. Lewis has a panic button on her phone. She'll let us know if she needs us." He hoped.

Ultimately, testing Dr. Foster's hunch was more important than Darcy Lewis - it might help further their understanding of Loki, and the Cube. He swallowed. A real agent would know their life was secondary to the mission. Did Ms. Lewis know?


	5. Chapter 5

Loki watches in non-corporeal form from the foyer of Darcy's building, as the box-like white chariot drives off after the magically conjured versions of himself and Darcy. "That was too easy," he says to himself.

And then he sends off a thought, into the air, into the abyss that separates him from the Cube.  _You see, my dear. I'll be able to come for you soon._

He feels a bit of a shock, a flicker in his mind, like static. Damn humans. He doesn't think they even realize how effective their shielding is. There are pathways between things, in the nowhere spaces, but the shielding around the Cube is effective against even those gateways. The Cube reaches to him, but when he reaches to  _It_ , he hurts.

A low "Um..." from Darcy catches his attention. She's watching the chariot zip away. He sees her swallow.

Fear is a sign of respect, and he appreciates it, he really does. With a smirk, he says, "Don't worry, you'll be of no use to me dead." Which is completely true. Also, her bosom in the modified dress is much more attractive with the rise and fall of her lungs.

Using magic he opens the door for them.

As they step out into the night, she looks up at him sharply. "They know I'd give in under torture in about two seconds, so they don't tell me anything...nothing important  _at all_. I don't even know the code to the bathroom on my floor. They make me ask for the key every single damn time."

The door to her building slams behind them. He blinks at her.

"I'm just saying," she says quickly.

"I promise, no torture, either." He winks and smirks. "Unless you ask nicely."

Her face flushes delightfully, and her eyes widen. For once she's not wearing those bulky, black, eye aiding devices; and he can appreciate how expressive and wide her eyes are.

Jutting out her chin she says, "No torture means that I change out of these heels."

She spins back towards the door and tries to insert her key - but he blocks it with magic just in time.

"The shoes stay on," says Loki.

Turning, she narrows her eyes at him. "No torture, my ass."

Smirking, he says, "That's a lovely idea, but I'm famished, we have reservations to keep - and we have to catch up with me."

Without waiting for her to respond, he turns and hails a cab.

x x x x

Darcy slips into the cab, Loki gives the cabbie directions and then disappears. Really disappears.

A few blocks later the cab stops per said directions...and Loki gets in. He looks a little tired, his face a bit gaunt, his brows pinched. All the magic he's been doing this evening?

She remembers how she walked right through him earlier in the evening. Reaching out a finger she pokes him in the upper arm. "Solid," murmurs Darcy, suddenly vividly imagining the tight sinewy muscle that has to be under that perfectly tailored suit.

Her mouth sort of waters. It's been so long since she's had some nice solid male over, under, in front or behind her.

Finger still on his arm, a stretch of silence makes her look up.

Loki does not look pleased. "What. Are. You. Doing?"

Sitting up straight, crossing her legs and trying to sit all prim and cool she says, "Just checking to see if you're real."

He doesn't say anything. Just tilts his head and smiles disturbingly.

The cabbie pulls up to the sleek, glass exterior of the Time Warner building where  _per se_  is located. Loki pays the cabbie with crisp fresh bills. They seem real. What is he doing for money? It doesn't seem a pertinent question to ask at the moment, and she has so many other questions. She's filled the dull moments at her day job researching him, and she's been mulling how to ask them without being killed.

He may have promised no death or torture, but she's not certain he won't go back on that with proper motivation.

They're led into the  _per se_  dining room. The room is not particularly pretentious or grand. The main focal point seems to be the wall of windows overlooking Columbus Circle and Central Park.

They're ushered to a seat next to a fireplace by staff that move with the precision of dancers.

The waiter leaves after taking their order - nine courses, and yes the wine pairing, too. This could be the last night of her life and she's living it up. She tells Loki as much, and he smirks. Darcy sees her opening.

"Great food," she says. Loki raises a bored eyebrow.

"Right next to a fireplace. Perfect for the God of the Hearth and Leisure."

His face goes slack.

Raising her eyebrows, she says, "Because that is also what you are, isn't it? Before the whole God of Mischief and Lies thing, right?"

He looks out at the park. "I suppose it depends on what you consider leisure." There is a trace of bitterness in his voice.

You can do this Darcy - wiggle it out of him. Just don't bring up any of the bad stuff. No talking about how he maybe murdered his brother Baldur, or rumors that he is actually a frost giant.

"Yeah, the Norse Gods seem kind of obsessed with hammers and axes and bludgeoning and goring things," Darcy says. "I bet you had to study pretty hard to work magic the way you do...or..."

His eyes come to hers and they're alight. And not in a good way. She's on a tightrope here. And it feels  _great._

She smiles as innocently as she can muster. "Or is it because you're kind of Odin's brother as much as his son, and part of the Odin trinity." She looks away, "Of course some scholars say you actually are Odin, and he's the grand master of sorcery, so maybe it just came naturally -."

She looks back at him. His eyes are wide and his mouth is open.

"What?" he says. He doesn't even sound evil. He just sounds confused.

Which kind of makes her confused.

"You didn't Google yourself?" she asks.

"Thor has more entries than I do," he mutters, looking down at his hands as a waiter almost magically deposits glasses in front of them.

"Yeah, well, there was a pretty lame comic about him for a while there," she shrugs. It actually wasn't that lame, but it's obviously a sore spot and she doesn't want to get stuck on it. The stuff she just said is pretty basic, though. Tilting her head she says, "You didn't read any of your entries, did you? Somehow I expected evil to be more narcissistic."

A sneer plays at the corners of his lips. "What could mortals tell me about myself that I don't already know?"

"That you're considered part of a holy trinity."

He actually blinks.

And then he looks down, "Part of a trinity with father and Thor."

"No," says Darcy and he looks up. He really doesn't know! She's never felt so smart or on her game in all her life.

"Part of the Odin, Loki, Hønir trinity," she says.

"Hønir?" says Loki.

"Yeah, you know, he helped Odin - your daddy, your brother or you, whichever...create humans, so you can see where we might be fond of him."

His jaw goes tight, and his eyes are flat and cold. "And just how am I Odin's brother?"

Uh-oh.

"Tell me," he says.

"Umm..."

Lowering his chin, he narrows his eyes at her, and she's sure it's magic that makes her say what comes out of her mouth next.

"Well...you're both children of...frost giants...maybe?" she says in her smallest possible voice.

The look he gives her. He  _is_ going to kill her.

A waiter slides a tray in front of them. It holds what looks like two tiny orange-pinkish sorbet ice cream cones with chives on top. But they're not. It's the chef's signature amuse, a salmon cornette. The orange pink is salmon tartare, the cone is tuile, and it's filled with creme fraiche.

It's supposed to be heaven, which is quite a coincidence because Darcy might be on her way there right now.

Well, if she's going to die...She picks hers up with a trembling hand and takes a bite.

Slowly putting the rest of it down, she closes her eyes. She smiles. And suddenly her courage is back and she remembers to be crazy.

Opening her eyes, she licks her lips and picks up her wine glass. Taking a sip, she looks over her glass at him. He doesn't look at all amused. In fact he hasn't moved. But the wine is  _perfection_.

Putting down the glass she says, "Don't take this the wrong way, but after eating that and drinking this, I think I can die happy."

Without taking his eyes off hers, he reaches down, picks up the salmon cornette and puts the whole thing in his mouth. Glaring at her, he starts to chew.

And then his glare softens. He looks around, chews more slowly, closes his eyes and swallows. Opening his eyes, he picks up the tray.

"No!" Darcy says almost jumping from her seat.

Loki looks at her, confused again.

"Breaking plates is not a sign of respect here," she whispers.

"Oh," he says, gently putting the plate back down. Taking the glass of wine in his hand, he swirls it gently and takes a swig. He blinks. "This is quite good, too," he murmurs. "I'd never have thought on Midgard..."

"Yeah, we've come a long way," says Darcy. "Didn't your buddies the Vikings eat some rotten shark thingy-"

Holding up a hand and shuddering he says, "Hákarl. It's Icelandic. We will not discuss it."

And then he looks towards the window at the park, quiet and pensive, all trace of anger gone.

Fortunately the first plate comes, something called "Oysters with Pearls," which might not sound very good, but is amazing.

And then Loki is asking her how someone who was "once a slave" could possibly be acquainted with food like this and Darcy tells him about the particular boyfriend of her mother's who was a foodie. And then she tells him about the  _non-evil_ , but not quite so enjoyable, antics of some of her mother's other fuckbuddies, oops, suitors. The food and wine keep coming and it's all good.

Even if she catches him looking at her boobs a lot.

x x x x

There's a bit of fog in the air as they step out the restaurant. Five hours later. The chill hits Darcy's face and the top of her cleavage in a rush. She did a really good job sticking to a rule she learned the hard way - only eat a few bites of each course. She's not feeling sick, just wonderfully full. And drunk. Slightly.

Loki. Looks. Great. And it's not because she's drunk.

He adjusts his collar and she takes his arm. He looks down, but just smirks - doesn't push her away. "I thought we'd walk through the park," he says.

That's unexpected. She looks out at the dark trees.

"Don't worry," he says. "You'll come to no harm."

"Who's worried?" she says and laughs because it is funny to lie to the so-called God of Lies.

Lifting an eyebrow, he guides her along the side walk to the crosswalk that will take them beneath the trees. Maybe it's the wine, but she's feeling brave again.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asks.

Tensing a little, he says, "I'd be careful."

"I think you'll like this one," says Darcy as the trees loom larger. "Did Thor's hammer really get stolen, and did you really get him to dress up as women to sneak into the giant's lair to get it back?"

He might actually be a little drunk too because he actually snickers a little. "That  _actually_ is true."

She squeezes his arm, and it seems to convey what she wants it to because he says, "You should have heard him complain, the mighty, pompous, easily embarrassed Thor, worried about his dignity when all of Asgard was in danger..."

Pretty soon he has Darcy laughing. They're getting close to the opposite edge of the park, and she says, "But what I don't understand...you're so good at illusions, did you really have to make him dress up in women's clothes or -"

He squeezes her arm and looks down at her, and God, he's really close. And his arm is so firm, his eyes actually seem to glow, and he smells good. Like something otherworldly, which isn't particularly original, but she's drunk, and anyway, it fits.

Smirking, he says, "That's the thing. I didn't have to. But I convinced him my magic wasn't strong enough without him squeezing into a girdle and donning rouge and lipstick."

Darcy giggles. Smiling, he looks up at the dark gray night. "God of Mischief and Lies and all that," he whispers as they step out of the park. He smiles and it's somewhere between innocent and mischievous, but it's definitely sexy.

She wonders if he is drunk. Or just completely buzzed with chocolate. "I don't think when they wheeled out that cart at the end of dinner with the chocolates on it that they expected you to eat all of them," she says. There must have been at least three dozen, he'd eaten every one of his dishes, and she thinks he maybe swiped a few bites of hers when she wasn't looking.

He tenses a little, "They said to take as many as I like."

"Easy," she says. He is  _sensitive_. "I thought it was awesome. The look on their faces. I know they expected you to burst before you even got out the door. But you didn't -"

She looks up at him. "You look better than ever." It was true. Each course he ate seemed to fill out the hollows in his cheeks a little more, and seemed to warm his pallor. Now the mist is even starting to make his hair curl; it's no longer flat back against his head.

He looks down at her. There is the barest hint of a smile on his lips.

He stops walking and she stops with him. He turns in front of her and drops his head, his eyes are focus on her eyes, and then her lips.

Is he going to? Because if he is, she should not be this cool with it. But wait, she  _can_  be cool with it? Right? Even if he is the super-villain du jour. This is all just part of the job, the reason they pay her the big bucks. Get him to feel comfortable. She is just one awesome spy.

He lifts a hand to her cheek and any conflict there was - and okay, there really wasn't much, sort of vanishes when his fingers touch her skin. They're warm. She thought they would be cold but they're not.

His eyes...they're almost glowing green. She looks at his lips so close to hers and closes her eyes.

The hand on her cheek gets really warm, almost hot and she gasps.

She might love her job.

x x x x

It was  _odd_  that he hadn't looked into what mortals thought of him - he was usually naturally very curious. But he's been so focused since he'd come to Earth.

Now as the magic he needed to transmit to Darcy slips through his fingers to her, as his plan to get the Cube by protecting it begins to hatch, he feels a weight lifting.

He looks down at Darcy and her desire is so transparent, the skin of her cheek beneath his fingers so soft.

It has been a long time since Loki has taken comfort in another. Not since he parted ways with his wife Sigyn - and that was a long time ago.

He has taken pleasure with mortal women before, beneath him or not. All the young gods of Asgard did, back in the Beginning, when the length of the branches of the World Tree was not as long and it was easier to slip between realms. It was a right of passage.

Baldur was the worst of them. He used to say that the humans raped and pillaged their own enough, the Gods might as well join in; he claimed it could only help humans to spread Asgard genes through their race.

Loki and Thor, both preferred willing partners. Thor because he felt guilt. Loki because willing participants were more fun. Baldur couldn't care less.

Then Odin, himself guilty of fathering numerous human offspring, declared the practice explicitly illegal. He declared it beneath the Gods; it created hostilities towards Asgard and might turn the inhabitants of Midgard towards the giants.

Loki and Thor complied willingly. The tears, the fears of unplanned pregnancy and retribution against their human lovers from their human tribe members - all these things made rendezvous with humans tiresome.

Baldur on the other hand...

Loki gazes down at Darcy's full lips. Odin may say it's beneath him, but he's not sure how much he believes in Odin's wisdom anymore. And this is a different time. If he uses Darcy for the pleasure of her flesh, she'd surely be willing.

He feels a cool wind touch him, feels The Cube sigh,  _With me you can be avenged._

How would a physical liaison with Darcy affect his game with SHIELD? It's not like Darcy will be able to keep any of her activities with him from her handlers. Forget torture, the girl could be startled into telling the truth with a firm word.

He does not know. But she is so soft, and he does feel so warm.

And then he thinks of Baldur and drops his hand.

She opens her eyes. Well, no use not being friendly. Smirking, he grabs one of her breasts and squeezes appreciatively. It must be some cultural faux pas because she suddenly shoves him backwards. Or tries to.

"What was that?" she says, and the look on her face is disappointed and angry. How very confusing. Not letting his befuddlement show he keeps the smirk plastered to his face and says, "Just checking to see if they're real."

She narrows her eyes.

"I believe SHIELD is waiting for you now," he says. And then he disappears, or pretends to. He sticks behind her to make sure she gets home safely - he's invested a lot in her at this point. He hears her mumble to herself, "Stupid supposed God of Mischief."

That actually wasn't the state he wanted to leave her in. Wouldn't anyone appreciate being fondled by a God?

When he gets home he wants to look into the so-called trinity he belongs to, wants to learn about Odin's heritage - it would explain a few things, but he can't. He feels the pull of the Cube, and finds himself reading up on the Midgard concept of quantum mechanics instead. There is a great deal of overlap with Asgardian magic so it is interesting...but even so - he's never been so focused in his entire life. Usually, like his game with Darcy and SHIELD, he likes to go the longer, fun way about things.

It must be because he's so close to his goal.

When he crashes into his pillow that night it isn't quantum mechanics he's thinking of though. It's the impertinent human, Darcy. He blames her for his dream.

x x x x

_Loki and Thor are just eight and nine years old, they are sitting outside their mother Frigga's chambers._

_Their father emerges, "You may come in and meet him now."_

_Jumping up excitedly, Thor exclaims, "Our new brother, Baldur!"_

_Hanging back beside Odin, Loki watches his older brother plunge into a gauntlet of nurse maids and midwives. The women are all looking at the tiny bundle in Frigga's arms, "Isn't he the most beautiful thing," he hears. "He shines," exclaims another. "Made of gold!" says yet another voice. "Even his cries sound like music," says another._

" _Look at that arm!" exclaims Thor. "I bet he'll be nearly as tough as me when he gets big!"_

_Making his way through the line of women, Loki and climbs up beside Frigga. "He doesn't shine," Loki says looking at the small bundle, wrapped up in a cloud of magic and Frigga's arms. "His arm looks like any baby's arm, he is wailing, and he doesn't appear golden at all - he is somewhat blue."_

_The blue is evidence of some frost giant heritage in Loki's family tree. He knew that in the days of old there were frost giant Aesir marriages, but he'd never thought his family was up to such shameful behavior._

_One of the nurses makes a low hiss noise, and another tut-tutts. Odin's arms go around Loki, and he says, "Come here young man."_

_He leads Loki from the room, and whispers, "It is alright for people to be enchanted by a tiny baby." His voice is not unkind._

_The cloud of magic never left Baldur. It seemed everyone but Loki saw a glowing god without a hint of blue to his skin, heard a wise musical voice, and loved him instantly. After a while Loki learned to play along._

_For years Loki remembered the magic around Baldur the day he was born and thought that his father was talking strictly literally about enchantment._

_And then Loki's daughter Helen is born. She is too tiny, her limbs twisted and bent in all the wrong ways, her body is half blue. No cloud of magic surrounds her; he is enchanted just the same._

_But none of her midwives coo and declare her made of gold. One just pats his shoulder and says, "It will be alright. You'll see."_

x x x x

Loki's eyes bolt open. He cannot think about Helen now. To go that way is to invite despair and madness...or more madness.

Sitting up he wipes his hands down his face and makes the mistake of closing his eyes. He sees his little girl, so misshapen and so  _perfect_ in his arms.

_We will avenge her. We will make everyone see. They will bow before us and know you always knew the truth._

He blinks and looks around. Yes. He just has to focus.

Morning light is streaming through the floor to ceiling windows in his loft. It is close to 9:30. Time to see if his plans for SHIELD and his would be competitors are in motion.


	6. Chapter 6

Darcy Lewis shows up at Nick Fury's office looking a little drawn the next morning.

"Good morning," he says, straightening some papers on his desk.

She just lifts a hand in acknowledgement. Which is odd. Usually he makes her jumpy.

"You alright?" he asks. Nodding, she wanders over to his windows.

He stares at her a moment, then turns to his computer and sends off one last email before taking her down to the the hopefully-Loki-proof-basement to go over her version of the Loki escapade with Coulson and Dr. Foster.

Standing up, Nick says, "Okay, let's -"

And stops. Ms. Lewis is cradling her lower abdomen. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Wincing, Ms. Lewis nods. "Yeah. Just cramps. And a freakin' awful headache. Always worse the second day."

In all his years as an agent, no woman Nick's worked with has ever complained about cramps. Granted, he hasn't worked with that many women, but Natasha, The Black Widow, never complains about cramps.

"Ummm...can we get you something for that?" he says.

Shaking her head, she says, "No, if I take anymore Midol I'll overdose. But I am _not_  in the mood for any of this bureaucratic BS today! Can't I just file a report?"

Nick blinks. Has he lost his ability to frighten her?

"Ohhh," she groans, walking towards the door. "Let's just get this over with." And then she falls flat on her face.

"What the - this wasn't here a few minutes ago!" she says holding up Nick's antique copy of Sun Tzu's "The Art of War." It's from the 1920's, and in Mandarin. How did it get from his desk to the floor?

"The Art of War," says Ms. Lewis. "This must be..." she raises her head and says loudly, "the  _so-called_ God of Mischief's dumb idea of a joke!"

"You read Chinese?" says Nick.

"No," says Ms. Lewis.

"Then how do you know it's The Art of War?" Nick asks, looking at the Chinese characters.

Staring at the book, Ms. Lewis says, " _Huh choo-shung tza-jiao duh tzang-huo,_ I know Chinese!"

...and Nick's glad that his face doesn't show a blush.

She stands up. " _Shiong mao niao._ Nick!" Spinning to him, she says, "I think you better get all the blog posts and news articles in Mandarin that the computer may have pegged as remotely off."

"We have people who speak Mandarin," says Nick. People who are a lot more stable and reliable - who don't complain about cramps.

"They missed something!" she says. Coming forward she says, "Don't you get it? I couldn't even pass Spanish and now I understand Mandarin! He did this to me! He said he'd make my job more interesting...There is something in Mandarin we need to see!"

x x x x

Darcy washes her hair for the first time in days, then leans her head against the shower wall and sighs. Coulson let her off at 3 PM today. Granted, it's Saturday. For the past two weeks she's been working everyday and getting home closer to 10, if she's come home at all.

Immediately after Loki gifted her with Mandarin, she was set to work looking for anomalies in newspapers and blogs written in that language. The anomaly she was looking for turned out to be "northern lights" over the Takan Masan Desert in Western China.

Turns out some unscrupulous super baddy sorts were engineering a plot to get the Cube. Their homebase was under the ancient city of Naya, but their operatives had already made their way into New York.

After finding the source of the anomalies, Darcy kept on being busy - monitoring the fall out from a joint Chinese army-SHIELD hit.

Now she's got a break and her big plans for tonight are to take a shower, put on her jammies and finish rewatching every episode of Firefly. Now that she understands Chinese it's way cooler.

Taking a deep breath she closes her eyes...and hears what sounds a whole like pop-corn popping.

Turning off the shower, she wraps a towel around herself and bolts out the door just as a tiny explosion goes off behind the light above her mirror.

"What the Hell?" Darcy yells, as sparks shower down over her. But she knows. That was a bug in her _bathroom_  - and Loki is back.

Scowling, she steps out into her apartment in only a towel. Little puffs of smoke are drifting up from all the exterminated bugs planted in her apartment.

"You know, for someone who is ostensibly not a slave, you work a lot," Loki says. He's wearing a perfectly fitting dark gray pinstripe suit, with a white tie on a light green shirt.

"What are you doing here?" she says.

With wide innocent eyes he says, "Why I just came here to help you celebrate your victory over your Mandarin foes."

"To celebrate us taking out your competition is more like it," she says lowly.

Smiling and putting a hand to his mouth he says, "Competition for what?"

She'd smack her own forehead but it would probably dislodge her towel. She's not supposed to bring up the Cube - although she's pretty sure from his expression he already knows.

Changing the subject she says, "Why would I go anywhere with you after you groped my boob like a sleazy old guy on the train?"

His smile drops. "I don't understand the problem. A few moments before that you were practically ready to get in bed with me."

"Was not!"

He's definitely not in physical form because all of a sudden he's behind her. She feels a cold rush of air against her neck. "Really?" he says.

Shivering - sadly, not in a bad way, and very angry at herself for it, she says, "Fuck you." This is the sort of frustration swears were made to relieve.

"Sorry, my dear," he says, and she feels a cool wind and Loki walks through her - which is yeah, kind of freaky. Turning his head back, he winks. "But as you see, right now I'm not _real_."

"Then you won't feel this," she says picking up a hairbrush and hurling it at him.

He pretends to duck, and then laughs.

She just glares at him and tightens her towel.

Rolling his eyes, he says, "I show proper appreciation for the finest bosom this side of Asgard and you want to hit me!"

"We don't do that here," she says, kind of flattered even if she shouldn't be.

He looks up at the ceiling and lets out a breath. "Very well," he says. "I won't murder you, torture you or show appreciation for your bosom." Looking down at her breasts and smiling, he says, "Physically at least."

Still dubious, she purses her lips and says, "What sort of celebration do you have in mind?"

"Alinea," he says very seriously.

"In Chicago?" she asks.

"Is there another?"

She blinks. Alinea is the finest restaurant for molecular gastronomy in the U.S. Looking away, she tilts her head. "I really should go there...for my job and all."

"The lady flatters me," he says.

Looking back at him, she says, "All right, I'm game."

"You'll wear the dress. And the shoes," Loki says.

"Don't push your luck," she replies.

"Sweet potato flavored with bourbon and brown sugar with a smoldering cinnamon stick."

"The dress and the heels it is," she says.

The trip to the airport is a little more eventful than the trip to  _per se_. Somehow SHIELD seems to have figured out some way to tell the difference between the real Loki and Darcy and their doubles. Eventually, Loki just drags her into a cab and they make their getaway the old fashioned way - well, except that Loki makes all their lights green and SHIELD's traffic lights red.

By the time they're climbing onto a charted jet, Loki is confident he gave their tail the slip. Which doesn't precisely make Darcy confident, but she's pretty sure by now he won't hurt her. Unless provoked.

x x x x

Alinea is set in what looks like an uber-rehabbed slate gray row house on Chicago's north side. Inside it's narrow. The decor is very modern, but with lots of rich browns and deep chocolate wood, it feels warm.

They're seated in a room with two small tables, and one table set up for a large group. They are alone at first.

After their order is taken, Loki leans forward and says, "So, a filthy fornicator of livestock?"

It takes Darcy a moment, but then she recognizes the first words out of her mouth in Chinese. She remembers the stallion...but decides not to ask.

Ignoring her lack of witty repartee, he says, "Really, Darcy, I would expect kinder words towards someone who bestows Mandarin upon you." His face is very serious.

"Um..." she says, 'cause his serious face is rather scary.

Picking up a glass of wine that their waiter puts down he says, "But I did find the panda piss expletive rather charming." He's smiling now, and his eyes are twinkling.

She confesses that she stole both lines from Firefly and they have a lovely discussion that criss-crosses between sci-fi and libertarianism. Loki is very attentive and witty and playing the smart-ass devil's advocate the whole time; and Darcy remembers how sexy he can be when he's not groping her. She does her best to banish the thought.

Sometime during their conversation, and after six or so courses and as much wine, the table behind Darcy fills - two business guys from the sound of it.

But she's not looking. She feels happy, and potent, and  _alive_. "So  _Your Mischeviousness_ , how did you teach me Chinese?" she says, finally getting the courage to ask.

Narrowing his eyes he says, "I prefer  _Your Excellency, God of Mischief_."

She narrows her own eyes. Loki can cast illusions she can hear and see but  _not_ touch, levitate objects, set things on fire - but he can't snap his fingers and make SHIELD agents disappear. Or pop in on the Cube and walk out with it. And then there's the unconfirmed myths that say Asgardians die...he's not a god in Darcy's book.

It's probably the wine in her because Darcy smirks and says, " _So-Called_  God or Mischief."

"Your own people declared me a god," he says, his voice going frosty.

She must be really drunk because she smiles and says, "We also thought the world was flat then. And besides, a god wouldn't be so interested in my boobs."

"Your idea of a god is so boring," he says, rolling his eyes.

She's about to come up with a witty retort when Loki's face goes slack.

She turns around and sees a girl in a wheel chair. It's not the standard variety operate-it-with- your-arms-go-ahead-you-can-wheel-marathons wheelchair. It's a heavy-duty, electric machine. It has head rests at the top to hold the girl upright, and it's deeply padded. The girl's sitting oddly, slumping to the side. Her arms are curled upwards. Behind her is a man who looks like he's probably her father, and two sets of what looks like grandparents. Everyone is smiling.

The waiters smile, too. "Happy Sweet 16, Abby!" they say, and Darcy feels her heart fall a little. The little girl Abby is so small she looks like she can't be more than 12.

Abby smiles back. Despite the gauntness of her face, it's a lovely smile. And then she laughs a little bit. Some spittle flies from her mouth, and she mouths a garbled, "Shanx you."

Behind her, Darcy hears a disapproving sound from one of the businessmen.

She looks back at Loki. He's looking at the businessmen at the table behind her and the look on his face...yeah, he could be provoked to kill. She's read myths about Loki's daughter Hel. Hel was half blue, thin, disfigured with rotting skin. In the myths she was banished.

She hears the man summon the waiter and ask to be moved. Loki's eyes narrow as the man and his partner are ushered to another room.

Swallowing, Darcy says softly, "Well. Now they won't ruin Abby's sweet sixteen."

Blinking as though he just realized Darcy was there, he says, "Of course."

"Don't kill him," Darcy says quickly. "He is an ass, but don't kill him."

Loki looks away. He seems to make an effort to smirk. "Of course not. I won't ruin Abby's day either."

Darcy tries to pick up the conversation, but it soon becomes apparent that Loki is engrossed in the conversation going on at Abby's table. She hears snippets of, "And your second year of high school," and "we're so proud of you" and exclamations to the waiters of, "she's wanted to eat here for the longest time!"

It's difficult to understand Abby. Her words are drawn out and strange. Sometimes she grunts. But her father and especially her mother seem to understand her. They translate for the rest of the table. Darcy glances behind her and notice they help her eat, too.

After paying the check, Loki seems overly anxious to leave. Face hard, he gets up from his chair too quickly and walks ahead of Darcy towards the stairs. Which is odd. Normally he plays gentleman-aside from the groping thing.

And then it happens. Abby is laughing and a small bit of spittle flies from her mouth to Loki's perfect suit. He stops. Her table goes completely quiet. The smiles drop from her families' faces.

Darcy can imagine what they're seeing. The cold business man in the perfectly tailored suit looking down where the spittle landed - after someone else asked to be excused from the room. Darcy sees Abby's grandmother swallow.

And then suddenly smiling, Loki holds up one hand and says to the room at large. "Look, nothing here!" He says. Turning his hand around and holding up the other he says, "And nothing here!"

He puts both of his hands together, rubs, opens them as though he's about to catch a ball. Out fly dozens and dozens of butterflies. They're obviously illusions - they glow, and pass through objects, but they're  _beautiful,_ casting flickering lights through their room _._

Abby and her family start to laugh. There's cries of "That's amazing." Waiters stop and stare and then begin to clap. Hearing murmurs of appreciation, Darcy turns and sees other patrons crowding in the doorway of the room. People cheer and try to get the dancing mirages to land on their fingers.

Crouching down so he's at the level of Abby's face, Loki puts on a bright smile and says, "Happy Sweet Sixteen, Abby."

And Darcy knows then, with some sadness, if he was a god he would heal Abby.

Abby smiles and grunts, and Loki just smiles wider and pulls a giant pink butterfly out of her hair.

There's a joint murmur of "Awwwww..." from everyone.

"I must go," he whispers to Abby. And then standing, he leaves the room a little too quickly. Darcy just barely catches a look of strain upon his face.

She stands motionless, transfixed, in the swarm of swirling, glowing butterflies as people continue to murmur in wonder.

Forget worrying about lusting after Loki. She thinks she might have just fallen in love.

x x x x

" _Angrboða_ _,"_ _Loki says, walking into their room, his wolf Fenrir by his side._ _Angrboða_ _lies on their bed, sobbing, her honey wheat hair draped over her shoulders.._

_He sits down beside her. He doesn't have to ask what is wrong._

_She tells him anyway. "They say I am part jötunn and that is why Helen is blue."_

" _They, they, they," Loki whispers, kissing the top of her hair. "You know it is not they. It is Baldur, still jealous that you chose me over him."_

_Angrboða_ _takes a ragged breath and turns to look at him. She is lovely even with her face swollen by tears. Loki remembers the day she drew away from Baldur to talk to him. He does not remember the words he was speaking then - just her smile as she laughed._

" _They say I have disgraced you and the house of Odin," she whispers._

" _You?" says Loki. "Baldur is half blue himself!" And if his brother is blue, it could be the blood in Loki's veins that makes Helen blue, though he does not say it aloud._

" _Loki..." she says looking away._

" _I know you can't see it," Loki says bitterly._

_Unlike the mortals of Midgard, all Asgardians posses magic to some extent. Some more than others. And in those who possess it strongly, magic manifests itself according to their personalities. Loki is able to cast illusions, almost without thinking. Though lately he has been putting a great deal of effort into setting things on fire. Thor's magic manifests itself as strength - though he has some talent at healing, too._

_Baldur's talent is making everyone, with the exception of Loki and for some reason Fenrir, see him as beautiful, in words and deeds - no matter how vile his deeds are. Baldur is violent, but it passes for valor. He has fornicated with nearly every woman in Asgard, and some of the young boys, but it passes for romance._

_Angrboða_ _finds Baldur as beautiful as everyone else. How she failed to be one of his conquests is still somewhat of a mystery to Loki -_ _Angrboða_ _only says that_ _Loki is funnier. Which is true._

_Down the hall, Helen starts to cry, voice nearly a mew. She has awoken from her nap and will want to go out. At 16 months she cannot walk, or even crawl, really. She can only pull herself along on her elbows, barely holding up her head. But she wants to go out, to see the world. In a few minutes her mew will become a scream._

" _Loki,"_ _Angrboða_ _says, "I can't do it. Not today. I cannot face the court."_

_Loki has made it a point that_ _Angrboða_ _or he take Helen out once a day. He will not hand off Helen's care completely to nurses and maids and make the court think he is ashamed of his daughter._

_He looks down at his wife, and can feel his face go hard. He is a prince, and tongues are not as willing to wag about a prince as they are about his wife. Bending down, he kisses her head. "Of course not, I will take her." His words are cold even to his ears. Lest she think that he is angry at her, he pulls a flower out of her nose._

_Normally, it makes her laugh, but today it only makes her cry._

_Helen's mew becomes a wail and Loki doesn't have time to think about it. Kissing her head he sets off down the hall._

_Taking Helen out is always an exercises in maintaining an air of false joviality. She gets looks of horror and distaste from people such as Baldur. Almost as bad are the looks of pity. Her brave uncle Thor is the worst for those. Thor's afraid to touch Helen. Deep down Loki knows it's because Thor is afraid that he'll hurt her, but it looks as though he's afraid he might catch something from her instead._

_On this day though, Loki runs into Sigyn in the palace gardens. Once Loki had courted her, but she'd been lured away by Baldur. After that Loki spurned her company completely; he's good at carrying a grudge._

_But then Helen was born._

" _Hello, Helen," Sigyn says cheerfully without trace of scorn or pity. She looks at Fenrir and says, "Hello, Fenrir," and the wolf gives his tail a short wag._

_Smiling at Loki, Sigyn says, "I was expecting,_ _Angrboða_ _today. I brought a blanket. We can put it in the grass. Helen will like it. There are tiny violets just blooming; if you get down on the ground you can see them."_

_It's a wonderful suggestion. Loki spends the afternoon lying on the blanket with Sigyn, Helen between them. He makes the violets dance and sing so much he leaves himself winded. But Helen laughs, and so does Sigyn, and it's worth it._

_When it's time to go home, Sigyn says, "Let me come with you. I am worried about_ _Angrboða_ _."_

_Loki has no objections, so the three of them return to his residence. Helen is not pleased to be leaving the gardens, and Loki finds himself making trees sway and rocks sing along the way. He also makes the keyhole belch, and the door open with a sound like a fart when the servant opens it. Helen finds both delightful. The servant somewhat less so._

_While Loki clowns around in the reception hall with his daughter, Sigyn goes to find_ _Angrboða_ _. Loki is just about to stand on his head when he hears Sigyn scream._

_Handing off Helen to a servant, Loki follows the sound to his and_ _Angrboða_ _'s chambers. Sigyn is there, standing at the doorway, hand over her mouth. It's not until he enters the room that Loki sees why._

_Angrboða_ _is dangling by her neck from a rope. Turning, Sigyn pushes herself against him and his arms go around her automatically. Looking for the tell tale cloud of magic around his wife, Loki just stares. It has to be an illusion._

_But it isn't._

_In the great hall when Baldur hears the news, he claps his hand on Loki's shoulder and says, "I grieve for thee, brother._ _Angrboða_ _brought you nothing but sorrow."_

_Loki does not reply He sees Baldur's eyes flick over to Helen in Sigyn's arms._

_And then Baldur says, "It is sad, but only the strong remain on the branches of the World Tree."_

_Around the hall there are murmurs, as though Baldur has dropped some great pearl wisdom._

_It's no use arguing, no use placing blame. No one will hear his words. Meeting Baldur's eyes, Loki smiles, showing all his teeth. "My brother is always right."_

_It is soon after that that _Angrboða's name comes to mean "giver of sorrows"...and_  Baldur begins to have premonitions of his own death._

x x x x

Loki left the restaurant gasping for breath. It was not just because of the energy he'd expended on butterflies.

_Do not be weak. Only the strong stay on the World Tree's branches._

Is it the Cube? Or echoes of Baldur? He actually can't tell.

From behind him he hears the sound of footsteps, the soft closing of a door.

Turning, his eyes meet Darcy's, and she freezes.

Didn't her God raise the dead and heal the sick? He knows of no Asgardian who could ever heal maladies like Abby's or Helen's. Licking his lips, he readies for her to point out his weakness, and to cover with some lie.

And then another thought comes to him that makes him go cold. Maybe she'll ask  _why_  he did what he did. He cannot tell her he identified too much with Abby's parents and family, saw how hard they were working to pretend everything was going to be alright. Could not tell her how vividly he could imagine their fears for her future should they be separated from her...

He cannot tell her about Helen, and how he'd seen her in Abby for a fleeting instant. If he does he will crack, will crumble here on this very pavement.

His mouth twists. And if he could tell her, how could she possibly understand? She's a baby by her own kind's standards, unwed and childless.

"What you did back there..." Her voice cracks a little. "Was amazing."

He stares at her as people walk by on the sidewalk, and cars rush by.

She nods, and licks her lips, "Everyone thought so. It was a good thing."

He looks down and dimly remembers the staff and the patrons clapping - Abby's parents talking about her going to school. And another memory comes to mind, of Baldur speaking when he thought Loki was not listening, "Even humans would have the wisdom to leave her on an ice flow."

These were not the humans who called him a god.

 _But_ we _can be a god,_ a voice whispers in his ear.

"You forgot your coat," Darcy says stepping forward and he notices it in her arms for the first time. "I don't know if you need it," she says lifting it walking behind him so he can put it on. He slips his arms in and she comes around and buttons it for him. He waits patiently as he would before any retainer. It's familiar, and oddly comforting.

But then when she finishes she leans forward and wraps her arms around him.

Clenching his jaw, he says, "What. Are. You. Doing?"

Head tucked, cheek pressed against his chest she says, "I'm giving you a hug. It's what we do here."

A man passing by catches Loki's eye. It occurs to him that if he were to set her coat on fire, or even push her away it might draw unwanted attention.

"Your Excellency?" Darcy says the side of her cheek against his chest.

"Yes?" says Loki letting his voice drip with venom.

Without releasing him she says, "Would you make a butterfly puke in that asshole's soup?"

Eyes stinging, and he takes a ragged breath and fights a smile. Wrapping his arms around her, he lets his chin drop to the top of her head. He thinks he might fall.

"I can..." Closing his eyes he amends. "I will." He reaches out and imagines a single, black butterfly fluttering into the man's dish and leaking green ochre fluid.

"And make his credit cards all look blank too," Darcy says and he has to restrain a chuckle.

"Done," he says. It occurs to him that she said, 'make them  _look_ blank', he wonders if she's discovered even the improvement to her dress is immaterial?

_Together we can make things material..._

"Awesome," she says, raising her chin to look up to him and flashing him a smile that might pass for adoring.

Suddenly he is not thinking of his failings, of being unable to make things material anymore. Nor is he smiling. He drags his hands down her spine to the center of her back and up again. He feels the edges of softness along the line of bone. She is mortal, but now she is  _alive_. She licks her lips and he feels the air become heavy between them.

He has been in this moment before, before the first kiss, hundreds of times, and it is wondrous that it is still so  _sweet_  - as powerful as first penetration, maybe more so.

He brings one hand around to her face and brushes a finger against her lips. Her eyes close and she kisses his finger without hesitation. Her practiced lips cause a familiar heat.

_No. Complications. No more complications._

He closes his eyes. He _likes_  complications. Complications are his  _nature_.

His head almost falls forward.

_Helen. Baldur. Vengeance. Revenge. Do not squander it on a trifle._

He takes a breath. She is a trifle. Human. Young. Inexperienced in all ways but evidently  _one_.

He takes one last ragged breath. "Your handlers are no doubt wondering where you are," he says dropping the arm from her back and lifting his hand from her cheek.

"Um, yeah," says Darcy.

It strikes him suddenly that sounds  _very_ confused. He smirks. How delightful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am converting this story to an original fiction. Excerpts of which can be read on my blog here: [I Bring the Fire Part I: Wolves - Chapter 1](http://ibringthefireodin.tumblr.com/post/27868080954/fic-i-bring-the-fire-post-1)


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